


Homesteading

by FreshBrains



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Plug, Community: femslash_kink, Cooking, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/F, Morning Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9419855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: Purgatory had many thoughts about Nicole Haught and Waverly Earp, but nobody could ever call themboring.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the DW Annual Femslash Kink Meme 2016 Prompt: [Nicole/Waverly, anal](https://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/19252.html?thread=2631476#cmt2631476).
> 
> While I see this fic as taking place post-season one, there are no season one spoilers.

“I can feel you watching me,” Waverly says, a teasing hint of warning in her voice. She breathes in the savory smells of cooking meat as she edges her spatula beneath the tomato in the frying pan to see if it is done.

“I can’t help it when you look so…” Nicole says from her seat at the kitchen table, pausing as she searches for the right word.

“Delectable?” Waverly offers, thumbing to the next page in her cookbook.

“More like _edible_ ,” Nicole says, tone low and husky, sending shivers down Waverly’s spine. “God, you have no idea. You’re so perfect.”

“You know, I _would_ turn around and give you a kiss,” Waverly says, sliding the perfectly-fried tomato onto a blue enamelware plate. “But I can’t turn the vulnerable bits to the hot stove, can I?”

Nicole groans, making Waverly smile triumphantly as she turns to check on the black pudding frying on the other burner.

Lately, she’s been trying a lot of new things, new things that seemed so small now but would’ve been impossible only months ago. She’s making use of the big homestead kitchen with its gas stove and cavernous oven and beautiful pine cabinets and furniture by cooking big meals every day, filling her idle thoughts and fears with warm smells and fresh ingredients. Wynonna is definitely benefiting, though she complains her favorite jeans are getting tight, but no one is more impressed than Nicole.

“I’m just making use of all these groceries you bought,” Waverly teases further, motioning towards the preparations. She’s trying her hand at a full English breakfast on a sleepy, cool Sunday morning—Nicole was even sweet enough to stop at the grocery after her shift on Saturday night for all the ingredients, even the ones Waverly had to special order. “So you just sit back and enjoy your coffee.”

Nicole sighs, deep and long-suffering, but the kitchen chair creaks as she leans back. “You’re too much,” she murmurs, and it sounds like _I love you_.

Of course, Waverly isn’t _just_ cooking, and Nicole didn’t _just_ buy groceries. They never did anything halfway, not after their town almost went boom. The night before, Nicole also stopped by her own place to pick up a special package she ordered, and Waverly busied herself at her sewing machine.

So on Sunday morning, with the light slanting on the pine floors and the sausages sizzling away on the back burner, Waverly is naked except for a ruby-red apron and a black silicon plug inside of her.

Purgatory had many thoughts about Nicole Haught and Waverly Earp, but nobody could ever call them _boring_.

Nicole takes a sip of her coffee, her hand shaking slightly in anticipation. It’s an ideal blend, all dark and silky and subtle, but she’d rather savor the sight before her. Waverly has her hair up in a messy bun, a few tendrils falling down to tickle at the purpling bite marks on her neck and shoulders, and her chin is tilted down to read her cookbook, revealing the gorgeous slope of her bare spine. Nicole allows herself to look and look deeply, taking in every inch of her girlfriend, especially the way the small of her back swells into her perfect, round ass. The plug is small—they’re just beginning to play with these things—but Nicole can see the round base peeking out from between Waverly’s cheeks, the curve of her ass slightly slick with lube.

“Tell me how it feels,” Nicole says, hand falling down between her own legs where her cunt has been throbbing ever since she slid the plug into a gasping, arching Waverly in bed that morning.

Waverly glances over her shoulder, smiling sweetly. “I’m trying to cook you breakfast, here. Concentration is key.”

Nicole smiles back, enjoying the flush spreading across Waverly’s entire body. Every time she moves to reach for a spice or to turn a page in her cookbook, she lets out a little gasp as the plug shifts inside of her. “Tell me, baby,” Nicole urges, thumb pressing against her own clit through the thin material of her pajama pants.

“Full,” Waverly says softly, voice like silk, shy and sweet. “A little weird. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

“Is it bad? Uncomfortable? Painful?”

“Not at all,” Waverly says, using a fork to turn over the sausages in the pan. She glances behind her again, eyes dark and mischievous. “Just new. Like lots of good things.” She piles the sausages on a plate next to the tomatoes and turns back to her stove, figuring out her next step. “Now I’m all mixed up, Nicole Haught!”

Nicole just laughs and stands to press behind Waverly, chin resting on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “It says here that the pudding should be finished next,” she murmurs, lips grazing Waverly’s cheek. “Eggs and toast last so they don’t get cold.” Even though she knows Waverly might boot her out of the kitchen for it, she lets one hand wander to cup Waverly’s small breast beneath her apron and the other hand fall down between Waverly’s legs to give the plug a small, firm push.

Waverly responds beautifully, head falling back against Nicole, mouth opening in a sweet gasp. Her back arches, ass pushing back against the pressure of the plug. Her nipple hardens to Nicole’s touch. “You…you…” she starts, searching for the proper insult, “you _jerk_.” Her metal spatula she was using to see if the black pudding was done goes clanging into the pan, startling them both into laughter.

Nicole slides her hand out from Waverly’s apron and carefully retrieves the spatula from the hot oil, dropping it into the sink to cool. “Careful, baby,” she says as she walks back to her chair. “Don’t burn yourself.”

Waverly inhales sharply before squaring her shoulders and turning back to the task at hand. “See, now the pudding might be too hard,” she chides, turning off the heat. “Gordon Ramsey would _not_ be pleased.”

“Gordon Ramsey isn’t watching his girlfriend cook breakfast in the buff,” Nicole says. “Probably.”

“Laugh all you want,” Waverly says, tone lilting, “but if this breakfast turns out to be garbage, you’ll only have yourself to blame.” Soon, the rich, brown-sugar scent of baked beans fills the kitchen, and Nicole’s rumbling stomach betrays the fact that her hunger is outweighing her lust.

“How about I set the table,” Nicole says, “and let you finish up?”

“Use the blue dishes,” Waverly says sweetly, happy in her successful plan. “They look so _classic,_ you know?”

The move in companionable quiet for a bit, tending to their work with a few shared, smiling glances. Nicole uses Waverly’s handmade blue and white place mats and arranges each setting neatly, the polished family heirloom silver facing the correct way on the cornflower-blue napkins. She’s never had many nice things, so when she’s at the Earp homestead, she’s glad to take care of the nicest things in Purgatory—starting with her favorite sister.

In a way, she still can’t believe she can have this. They’re love is playful, exciting, adventurous…but it’s also the most comfortable thing Nicole has ever experienced, the warmest and sweetest. She never thought it was possible—especially in Purgatory, and especially with an _Earp_.

Once the toast pops and the eggs are cooked to perfection, Nicole helps Waverly plate everything, scooting her girlfriend out of the way with a firm hand on the small of her back. When Waverly’s breath hitches, Nicole just smiles and sets the plates down on the table. “Everything looks amazing,” Nicole says. “Did you want to change before—“

Waverly is on top of her before Nicole can even catch her breath, their bodies slamming against the kitchen counter. The pan used to poach the eggs goes skidding across the marble surface before clattering onto the floor on the opposite side, but neither woman notices.

“You say _I’m_ a tease, but I beg to differ,” Waverly says indignantly, pressing a line of hard kisses down Nicole’s jaw, one thigh already coming up to wrap around Nicole’s hip. “You drive me _insane_ , with all your smiles and little touches and those _looks_ …”

“Baby, you have _no_ idea,” Nicole says darkly, hitching Waverly up onto the counter, hands squeezing her ass. Waverly makes a high-pitched yelp of surprise as the plug presses more firmly inside of her, and she rocks and squirms into the pressure, legs tightening around Nicole’s waist. “You’re perfect. You’re so perfect, Waves.” She tries to untie Waverly’s apron but the strings are clumsy in her hands, so she settles on struggling it over Waverly’s head and tossing it into a heap on the floor. She tugs Waverly close and kisses her hot and deep, arching into the warm press of Waverly’s breasts. Her own nipples harden and before she can do so herself, Waverly pulls off her white tank top so they can touch bare skin to bare skin.

“It’s such a good feeling,” Waverly murmurs into Nicole’s hair, letting the other woman kiss at her throat. “It’s full, and safe. I want you to feel it, too.”

_I always want to make you feel safe_ , Nicole thinks, and her body goes hot with arousal at the thought of using the plug herself, of sharing that intensity with Waverly. “Up,” she says, pulling Waverly and rearranging her with her belly against the counter. “Let me see.”

Waverly groans and squirms a little, like she doesn’t want to be seen _there_ , and Nicole gives her a second, gives her the opportunity to call it and resume breakfast or sex in bed or anything else. But instead, Waverly just takes a deep breath and arches her back, putting on a show. Of course she would—she’s Waverly-freakin’- _Earp_ , and she doesn’t back down from a challenge.

Nicole is in awe, her cunt pounding, blood-hot, aching for Waverly’s touch. She reaches down and pushes at the plug again, angling it just so. She knows Waverly can’t feel it yet, but then she slides two fingers into her cunt from behind, slow and honey-sweet, searching for the right spot of pressure, and _then_ —

“Oh my god, _what_?” Waverly lets out a high, thin whine, grinding back onto Nicole’s hand. Her body goes lax, everything focused on pressing down onto Nicole’s touch. “Are you _magic_?”

Nicole huffs a laugh into Waverly’s neck and bites at the soft, sweat-damp skin there, adding to the smattering of love-bites collected over time. “Did you think I’d buy you a toy that wouldn’t blow your mind? Come on, Waves.” She curls her fingers and feels the pressure of the plug, knows the added sensation will make Waverly clench and moan on her hand. It’s breathtaking, _freeing_ in a way—this is _her_ doing. She’s the one showing Waverly Earp with her brilliant mind and long hair and perfect smile and kind heart this new pleasure, this new way to be with someone.

“Can you come for me, baby? Right here, on my hand,” Nicole says, out of breath, and presses her thumb against the base of the plug, right where it meets the silky, stretched skin of Waverly’s hole, “with my toy in your tight little ass?”

Waverly shouts, primal and female and perfect, and collapses onto the counter, riding Nicole’s hand, hair sliding out of her bun and into a mussed waterfall over her face. Nicole pulls it back, wanting to see Waverly’s face as she gets closer.

“That’s it,” she murmurs. Waverly is taking her pleasure now, so Nicole just stiffens her wrist to give her something solid to ride against. She cups Waverly’s breast with her free hand, kisses her neck, surrounds her in love and sticky sweat and the warm smell of sex. “That’s it, good girl.” That’s all it takes for Waverly to come, body clenching around Nicole’s fingers, spine arched.

Nicole could come from just this, just watching Waverly fall apart, but she doesn’t want to move an inch. She just wants Waverly to get lost in her orgasm, let her ride out the aftershocks. Her own heart hammers in her chest and her breathing slows. She feels like she’s coming out from a haze, and in a way, they are.

“Hot _damn_ ,” Waverly groans, unsticking herself from the counter to collapse back into Nicole’s arms. “I’m _so_ glad we waited until the pudding was done to do that. The house would’ve burned down around us.”

“And we can’t have that,” Nicole purrs, holding her girl close. She slides her hand out from between Waverly’s legs and grabs a kitchen towel to clean off. “Want me to take the plug out? It might be too much now, overstimulating—“

“No,” Waverly says, catching Nicole’s wrist in her hand. She looks up at her through hooded eyes. “I want to keep it in. It’s…comforting. Weirdly so. How _Freudian_.” She closes her eyes for a moment, relaxed against Nicole’s chest. “And I am _so_ hungry.”

Nicole laughs, kissing Waverly’s forehead. “Why don’t you go put some pajamas on and I’ll heat up our plates?”

“Use the oven, not the microwave,” Waverly says before making her way upstairs. “Oh, and Nicole?”

Nicole glances up, plates in hand.

“Next time, you should buy one that _vibrates_.” Her excited smile disappears over the banister and Nicole nearly drops the full plates of food right onto the hardwood floor.


End file.
